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<title>Masala Chai by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426091">Masala Chai</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction'>Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Reader Insert, Reader is the summoner, Short &amp; Sweet, but I repeat this is Comfort, hi my name's rey and im a sappy lesbian, lots of comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:14:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercedes comforts her wife after the Summoner visits her homeworld</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mercedes von Martritz/Reader, Summoner | Eclat | Kiran/Mercedes von Martritz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Masala Chai</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's not a big deal, you tell yourself. It's <em> not.</em> It was just some passing comment you had the misfortune to overhear made in fucking <em> walmart </em> of all places. </p><p>It's not a big deal, but you find yourself anxious and upset and angry and so, so <em> ashamed</em>. It's a familiar mix of emotions, although it's been… quite some time since you last had a taste. </p><p>You were just trying to grab some snacks from your original world (it doesn't feel like home anymore) before returning to Askr. You don't visit very often, but you had a craving and Anna wanted you to buy some things for her latest money making scheme anyway. Plus, the baby heroes go wild when you bring back new sweets for them. </p><p>Unfortunately, seeing their eyes light up will have to wait a moment, because you're a mess, and you need your wife. </p><p>Mercedes is busy at work with her embroidery when you arrive, laughing when you throw yourself down next to her on the couch and wrap your arms around her waist. </p><p>She's soft and warm and <em> right</em>, and you can't help but try and bury yourself. You want to crawl into her lap, but you settle for using her lap as a pillow. </p><p>"Darling, you'll get tangled in the threads." She says, smiling down at you. </p><p>It wasn't a big deal, but for a split second, you feel <em> gross </em> for thinking your own wife is beautiful. </p><p>And <em> then</em>, then you start crying. </p><p>Mercedes' smile drops as you twist around to bury your face in her tummy. She says something, but you're finding it hard to breathe, let alone hear over the sobs.</p><p>She holds you tight as you try to calm down again, her needlework presumably abandoned. Her alternates between brushing your hair back out of your face and rubbing circles into your back. She's heartbreakingly careful, like she's afraid you'll shatter. </p><p> "I-- I'm sorry-- it's just--" it's just <em> you love her</em>, and sometimes you forget that that's <em> wrong </em>in some people's eyes, and the reminder feels like a kick in the chest. </p><p>"It's okay." Mercedes shushes you, gentle as ever. "It's okay, my love." </p><p><em> My love, my love, </em> you repeat in time to your own heartbeat. You still feel raw, but better than before, that's for sure. You manage to get your breathing a little more under control too. </p><p>She doesn't ask if you're okay, <em> clearly </em> you're not, but she says, "Do you want to talk about it?" </p><p>You <em> do</em>, but… </p><p>"Does your Goddess accept us?" The words are out of your mouth before you can think them through. </p><p>Marcy stops. Looks you over, and then glances towards the doorway, where you know the bags from your shopping trip lay. </p><p>You've discussed it with her in the past, of course, mentioned how religion has been used as a means of oppression. How people shamelessly use their God as a mouthpiece for their own bigotries.  </p><p>You can <em> see </em> her put two and two together, see how her eyes harden and her lips pull into a scowl. Her anger is short-lived, however. It disappears the moment she looks back to you. "What happened?" </p><p>Your lips tremble. "Nothing. I… I just overheard…" </p><p>You can't get anymore words out, but Marcy doesn't press it. Instead, she cups your face in her palms and leans close. "My Goddess <em> loves </em> us," She says, knowing that she isn't really supposed to say stuff like that. Speaking <em> for </em> the Goddess is generally frowned upon. </p><p>But she has faith that it's true. That the Goddess she so adores and believes in loves her <em> and </em> you, her beautiful wife, in return. </p><p>"And I love you." She continues, fearless and unashamed. </p><p>Maybe, with time, you can be too. You thought you were, but… the scars of your world linger. </p><p>"Now." She says, taking a deep breath. "Would you like to talk about it, or cuddle? Or both?" </p><p>You don't answer verbally, but you drag yourself up so you can sit in her lap. Mercedes giggles as you do. She gives you just a moment to get settled again before wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. "I love you." She says, even softer than before.</p><p>"I love you too." The words are slow and sweet in your mouth, like honey. It soothes the ache from crying a little bit. Still. "I need a drink." </p><p>Mercedes laughs. "You can have the rest of my tea, 'though it's probably cold." She stretches a bit, grabbing her cup off the side table and offering it to you. </p><p>"What flavor?" You ask, even as you bring the cup up to your lips. It is cold, but there's some kind of warm flavor. Cinnamon, probably. Maybe cardamom. It's… <em> interesting. </em></p><p>While you debate whether it's a good interesting or a bad interesting, Marcy waits not-so-patiently for your verdict. Her hands return to your waist, idly kneading your flesh. She's told you before she likes how soft you are. "Do you like it?" </p><p>You're pretty sure she means the tea, but your mind jumps to <em> I </em> love <em> when you hold me</em>, <em> actually. </em> </p><p>Mercedes squeezes your hips when you don't immediately respond, chiding, "Come on, I made it myself." </p><p>"It's delicious." You say. "You'll have to make me some fresh later." </p><p>She smiles and leans in to kiss your cheek. You swerve at the last second, kissing her on the mouth. It's quick, barely a peck. But it's nice. </p><p>"Oh, can you make stir-fry for dinner? Or would you like to rest? I always get tired after I cry." </p><p>You've comforted her enough times to know that (her crying face kills you, but her sleepy smile always makes your heart feel full). Pointing that out feels rude though, so you go with, "I think I can manage stir-fry." </p><p>"<em>Wonderful</em>." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my Trans Feelings om fic is named after a kind of tea too bc tea and coffee and hot drinks Comfort Me,,,,, </p><p>anyways. actual icon <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcfuck/pseuds/mcfuck">robyn</a> beta'd this for me!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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